


The Many Faces of Steve Rogers

by blue_pointer



Series: 1935 [3]
Category: Captain America (Movies), Marvel Cinematic Universe
Genre: Anal Fingering, Anal Sex, Asthma, Babysitting, Bottom Bucky Barnes, Brooklyn, Cooking, Fluff, Fluff and Smut, M/M, Mutual Masturbation, Oral Sex, Pre-Captain America: The First Avenger, Pre-Serum Steve Rogers, Smut, Stucky - Freeform, Top Steve Rogers
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-07-25
Updated: 2016-07-25
Packaged: 2018-07-26 15:29:29
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Underage
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,949
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7579459
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/blue_pointer/pseuds/blue_pointer
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Bucky and Steve babysit. Steve's maturity level plummets. He's a bad influence.<br/>After making dinner, they go back to Steve's place and shag like teenage boys.</p>
            </blockquote>





	The Many Faces of Steve Rogers

**Author's Note:**

> This is really just some fluff with a smut chaser.  
> Some of you know Patti from The Space Between. She's much younger here.

“She’s copying me again!” Steve complained, glaring at Bucky as if he were personally responsible for his sister’s behavior.

“Aw, Stevie,” Bucky slipped off the front window ledge and walked over to the couch. His youngest sister was lying on the floor next to Steve, stretched out on her tummy, furtively scribbling on a piece of paper with an orange crayon. Her tongue was touching her nose in concentration as she worked to get the scribbles of Bucky’s arm just right. “She’s just a friggin’ baby. I dunno why you let it upset you so much.”

“She’s makin’ fun of me!” Steve huffed, crossing his arms over his chest and scowling, managing to look much younger than he was.

Noticing something had changed, Patti sat up from her drawing and, looking at Steve, crossed her arms over her chest as well. Bucky laughed.

“See!?” Steve said.

“Imitation is the highest form of flattery, pal,” Bucky told him. Steve’s scowl remained firm. “She just loves you. Don’t you Patti?” Bucky bent down to address his baby sister. “You love Stevie, don’t you?”

“Steebie!” she cried, leaping up and running to Steve to hug his leg. She laid her chubby cheek against his knee and squeezed.

“Awww. See?” Bucky chuckled. “You’re her hero, pal.”

“Make her stop hugging me!” Steve demanded. “I’m tryin’ to draw and she’s messin’ me up!”

“Oh, brother.” Bucky bent down to scoop Patti up before Steve threw a full-on temper tantrum. “Sometimes I wonder which one of you is the actual baby.” He stood, settling Patti on his hip.

“I’m not a baby!” Patti said, sticking all four fingers in her mouth, thoughtfully.

“Well _I’m_ not the baby!” Steve shot back, as if he were actually having this argument with a little girl. “Why didn’t Katie take her along to Becky’s piano lesson anyway?”

“Because,” Bucky said, explaining patiently as he walked to the kitchen to grab his sister a bottle, “there’s no reason to go draggin’ two little girls all over Brooklyn when you can just drag one.”

When he came back into the living room, Steve was angrily packing up his things. “I’m goin’ home. I don’t wanna babysit.”

“Who asked you?” Bucky said. “You’re just hangin’ out with me while I give Katie a break.” Steve glared at him. “You really wanna go home by yourself and sit there all alone for the rest of the night?”

Steve considered this, and looked sullen. “No,” he said at last.

“Then c’mon,” Bucky said, putting Patti down on the floor where she immediately toddled back toward Steve on the couch. “We should probably start dinner.”

This perked up Steve immediately. “Dinner? What’re we havin’?”

Bucky grinned, turning back toward the kitchen. “I’ll give you three guesses.”

“Potatoes?” Steve asked, undeterred by the main ingredient of most of their family recipes (both Barnes and Rogers).

“Yup. You wanna start peelin’?”

“Sure.” Steve came in and grabbed the peeler out of the drawer before sitting down at the kitchen table. Patti followed Steve in, attempting to climb up on the chair next to him and failing. 

“Up!” she demanded. Steve leaned over and handed her a spud out of the basket.

“Here you go, kiddo.” Patti examined it for a moment before putting it in her mouth. Steve laughed. “You sure you didn’t drop her on her head? I think there’s somethin’ wrong with her.”

“Damnit, Stevie!” Bucky strode over from filling the big pot with water in the sink. “Don’t let her suck on a friggin potato.” Steve was still giggling. “Jeez, punk, you didn’t even wash it before you gave it to her.”

Bucky squatted down so that he was eye level with Patti and held out his hand for the potato. She dutifully handed it over. “Thank you, honey.” He gave her a brotherly smack on the cheek.

Just then, the water started to overflow the pot in the sink. “Shit!” Bucky jumped up to turn it off.

“Shit!” Patti echoed. Steve burst into giggles.

“Thanks a lot, Stevie,” Bucky glared at him.

“You just taught the baby to say ‘shit!’” Steve bent over the table with mirth.

“Shit!” Patti echoed, smiling because Steve was smiling.

“Damnit, Steve!” Steve’s face was red from laughing, and Bucky had to watch him for a moment to make sure he wasn’t having an attack.

“Dabbit, Steeb!” Patti echoed him, pointing a mock-angry finger at Steve.

Steve kicked his legs, giving a high-pitched shriek of amusement at the added swear word. “That ain’t funny!” Bucky insisted, walking over to scoop his sister up again.

“Hey, brat. Hey. Listen.” But she was peering over his shoulder at Steve, who was wiping tears from his eyes. “You listenin’?” He poked her gently in the tummy until Patti looked at him.

“Now, you don’t wanna get big brother in trouble, do ya?” Patti shook her head no. “Okay. So don’t go sayin’ those words in front of Mom or Katie, okay?”

“‘kay,” Pattie agreed. And added solemnly, “Shit.”

Bucky sighed. “No, DON’T say that word, Patti.”

“Shit!” A voice whispered from behind Bucky. “Shit, shit, shit, shit, shit!” Steve was dancing around them, gleefully whispering the word to the baby, encouraging her to ignore everything Bucky was telling her. Patti watched him, fascinated.

“Steven Grant Rogers!” Bucky bellowed. “You watch your friggin’ language around my baby sister!”

Unfortunately, his best friend thought he was hilarious.

“Shit, Patti,” Steve told her one more time, kissing her on one chubby cheek before dropping back into his chair at the table.

“Shit?” she asked Bucky.

Bucky stroked her baby-fine locks, trying one more time. “No, honey. That’s not what Steve said. Steve said ‘sit.’ Sssssssit. As in ‘why don’t you go SIT next to Stevie and help him peel potatoes?’”

“Help Steebie?” Patti asked, peering over Bucky’s shoulder at the 90 pound hero in question.

“Yeah,” Bucky told her, heaving a sigh of relief. He carried her over to the chair and carefully tucked her into it. “SIT. Next to Stevie.” Bucky left them to put the water on the stove to boil. “DON’T give her another dirty potato, Steve,” he warned.

Behind him, Steve quickly snatched the unpeeled potato out of Patti’s little hand before it could get to her mouth. “Dabbit, Steeb!” she cried out in response, and Steve started to laugh again.

“I’m gonna get you for this, Steve Rogers,” Bucky promised from the stove, lighting the burner. But when Bucky turned to check on them, Steve had Patti sitting in his lap, and he was carefully peeling potatoes around her. As Bucky watched, Steve distracted her tiny fingers from reaching for the sharp peeler by starting to whistle “Get Happy.” Patti turned to stare at him, rapt, her grey eyes wide.

Bucky was glad Steve’s dark mood had lifted. Maybe they hadn’t gotten there in the best possible way, but as long as it was past... Bucky started to shuffle his feet in rhythm with Steve’s whistling, and joined in singing as he retrieved a head of cabbage out of the ice box.

“Happy!” Patti sang, clapping along.

 

They managed to get dinner on without further incident, and Kate came back with Becky before the food was boiled past edibility.

 

After dinner, Bucky walked Steve back to the tenements, because it wasn’t the safest walk after dark anyway, and Steve had proved he could attract bullies from anywhere at almost any time of day.

“Did you get that last math problem?” Bucky asked, stepping to one side when Steve tried to grab his school bag back.

“I can carry it myself, Bucky!” Steve protested.

“I know,” Bucky told him. “But I’m carryin’ it right now, so hands-off.”

“You stink,” Steve told him, rushing ahead as if he could beat Bucky up the stairs.

“You think?” Bucky joked, sniff-checking his armpit. “Nah, that’s just the East River you smell.” He inhaled deeply. “Ah, the smell of the Heights in September!”

Steve chuckled. “Stupid.” He took the stairs two at a time, attempting to show off for Bucky.

“Hey!” Bucky called after him. “Don’t give yourself a damn heart attack, pal! You don’t gotta impress me!”

“Don’t you fucken kids be yellin’ on the g.d. stairs!” an angry voice called down from the third floor.

“Sorry, Mr. Donnell!” Steve sing-songed before his face appeared over the second floor rail, glaring reproachfully down at Bucky. Bucky rolled his eyes.

By the time he got to the Rogers’ apartment door, Bucky found Steve sitting on the couch, puffing on his nebulizer. “Told you not to overdo it,” he said, setting Steve’s bag down and closing the door behind him. Then Bucky moved to open the windows. Fresh air always helped Steve’s asthma. The other thing that helped was hot water. So Bucky put the kettle on and lit the stove, too, before returning to the couch.

Steve seemed a little better. He clutched the face mask loosely in one hand and rested his head on the back of the couch, eyes closed. Bucky slid up next to him, snaking an arm around Steve.

They stayed that way for a few minutes. If Bucky hadn’t known the exact patterns and rhythms of Steve’s breathing and what each of them meant, he might have thought his friend was asleep. “You want me to head back home, let you get to bed?” he asked.

“No.” Steve’s eyes opened, and he pushed Bucky down on the couch, climbing on top of him.

“This wasn’t really what I meant--” Bucky began, though he wasn’t objecting.

“ **I** meant it,” Steve told him, moving in for a demanding kiss.

“I guess you’re feeling better,” Bucky observed, when Steve let him up for air.

“Smartass.” Steve flicked his nose.

“I dunno,” Bucky teased. “You tell me.” He squirmed around so that he was lying on his belly underneath Steve. “Does it feel like a smart ass or a dumb ass?”

Steve wasted no time moving up behind him and gripping Bucky’s hips. From the feel of him, Steve was even more excited than Bucky had given him credit for.

“I like your ass,” Steve grunted, pushing up on him in a way that was not inexperienced. Deft hands slipped underneath Bucky to open his belt and unfasten his trousers.

“Whoa, you’re moving kinda fast there, aren’t you?” Bucky said, having expected at least a little more kissing first.

“Fuck you,” Steve whispered, biting his ear. “You made me babysit your little sister tonight. You owe me.”

Bucky wondered idly when he’d agreed to trade time at home with his family for sex on Steve’s couch, but he didn’t exactly mind. Besides, Steve’s hands were down his pants now, and that meant they’d really passed the point of no return. “Sssteve!” he hissed, thrusting against his best friend’s nimble fingers.  

“You got too many clothes on, Buck,” Steve complained, sliding off Bucky to give him room to disrobe without taking his hands out of Bucky’s fly.

“Okay, but--” Bucky squirmed, trying to find a position that worked to serve both purposes. “Steeeeve…”

“Keep goin’, Buck,” Steve instructed, watching Bucky struggle from where he knelt on the floor between Bucky’s knees.

Bucky bit his lip, fumbling with the buttons on his shirt. He was still fighting to shrug out of his sleeves when Steve’s mouth enveloped him with an audible ‘hum.’

“Fffffffuck!” Bucky collapsed back on the couch, his hips twitching him deeper into Steve’s moist heat. Bucky tried to keep undressing. He really did. But Steve’s technique was improving, and there was no substitute for enthusiasm.

“Buck!” Steve scolded, pulling off and taking Bucky in hand. “You hardly even got your dress shirt off.”

“‘s distracting,” Bucky breathed. “Don’t--hnnnnn...”

“You don’t take your shirts off, I’m gonna do it for ya,” Steve warned, letting go to grip Bucky’s undershirt and pull it over his head.

“No, Steve!” Bucky protested, needing the pressure back around his cock.

“Are you gonna be good?” Steve asked, bending over him.

Bucky nodded, gripping his cock, impatient.

Steve glanced down, watching Bucky handle himself. “You gonna do what I tell you now?” Bucky nodded again, looking up at Steve, flushed and needy.

“Then get your hands off my candy!” Steve demanded, knocking Bucky’s hand away. Bucky whimpered only for a moment until Steve’s mouth returned. Then his fingers tangled in Steve’s hair, holding the back of his head.

“Ssssteeeeeeve!” Bucky’s hips rocked gently into the pressure. He gasped when Steve’s fingers shifted from cupping his balls to nudging his ass. “Steve!” Bucky whined. “Not dry!”

Steve gave him the most sexy of hateful looks before getting up to walk out of the room. Bucky took the time to turn off the stove, shuck off his pants, and drag the throw blanket down underneath him on the couch.

He’d just finished when Steve came pounding back into the room, literally jumping on top of him without further preamble. “What the hell is that supposed to be?” Bucky glanced over his shoulder to ask. “You Superman now?”

“Shut up,” Steve told him gruffly, reaching around to grip Bucky in a slick fist before pushing a finger inside him.

“Haaaaa!” Bucky swallowed, taking a moment to find his words. “Someone’s impatient,” Bucky observed breathlessly, reaching back to draw his fingers down from Steve’s navel to his groin. He had hair there now, though it was much finer and lighter than Bucky’s.

“Been thinkin’ about this since biology class,” Steve grunted, rubbing the head of Bucky’s cock in his cupped palm.

Bucky had meant to tease him about thinking of sex in biology class, but he was beginning to see stars, and could do little more than whine and thrust as Steve pushed a second finger inside him. “D-amn…” Bucky gasped.

“You ready?” Steve asked.

Bucky rocked back and forth between Steve’s hands, letting the pressure build. “Yeah!” He pushed back against Steve’s fingers, but they quickly disappeared.

“Oh, Buck!” Steve groaned, kneeling behind him on the couch and jerking Bucky’s hips into position. A keening whimper escaped his throat as Steve eased in, feeling Bucky slowly stretch around him.

“Oh, fuck!” Bucky gasped, squeezing the fabric of the blanket in both fists.

“Buckeeeeeee,” Steve groaned, starting to piston in and out, his pace increasing exponentially as Bucky relaxed and Steve’s excitement grew. Bucky panted underneath him, always amazed at how enthusiastic Steve could be in the sack after spending the day at school being sullen and lethargic.

“Ssst--Steve!” His body shuddered when Steve’s cock hit him just right, and Bucky pushed back against Steve’s pressure for all he was worth.

“Yeah, Bucky,” Steve panted, stroking him in time with his thrusts. “Say my name.”

“Steeeeeeeeve!” Bucky drew out the moan, pushing back hard to bounce off Steve’s thrusts and give him depth. Their bodies made a distinct sound where they met now, and Steve growled, starting to just plow him.

“Buck!” Steve leaned back, spine arching, focusing on their point of connection, his thrusts slowing but not easing up.

“Jesus Christ, Steve!” Bucky gasped. “How long are you gonna fuck me for?”

Steve slowed further, moving in and out of Bucky as if his attention were focused elsewhere, perhaps pondering the question. Bucky couldn’t believe he’d lasted this long. “I dunno,” he said. “All night?”

“Steve!”

“All right, all right, Buck.” He bent over Bucky, gripping his sack and increasing his pace just a little. “You come first, though.”

“Steeeeeeeve!” Bucky arched his back, finding that angle again. Then he thrust into the tight circle of Steve’s thumb and index finger, just letting go of everything except the sensations. Before he knew it, the room had grown loud with cries of pleasure, and he realized with some embarrassment that they were his own.

“Yeah, Buck,” Steve growled, biting his shoulder. “Come for me! I like how loud you get when you like it.” Bucky didn’t think he could have gotten louder, but he did. His shouts worked like an aphrodisiac on Steve.

Steve’s climax followed close behind Bucky’s, and he withdrew, spilling hot seed down the back of Bucky’s thigh. Bucky reached back to finish him, stroking him until Steve shoved him away to fall back on the couch.

“You stink,” he gasped, chest heaving.

“Just making sure you finish good,” Bucky told him, sliding up next to Steve to pull him close.

“I always finish good with you,” Steve said, brushing tired fingers through Bucky’s hair.

“With me?” Bucky glanced over at him. “Who else you finishing with, Stevie?”

“Shut up,” Steve groaned. “You know what I mean.”

Bucky pressed a kiss to Steve’s flushed neck. “Oh, you mean it’s better with me than when you jerk off?”

Steve rolled his eyes. “Yes. Happy now?”

Bucky chuckled. “Yeah.”

“Jerk,” Steve said, burrowing against him.

“Punk,” Bucky whispered, kissing his cheek and pulling the blanket up around Steve.

“Mm-hmm.” Steve was already half asleep.

“You better put your shorts back on before your mom gets home,” Bucky warned.

“You do it,” Steve murmured sleepily, protesting when Bucky pulled away to do just that. “‘m cold!”

“Then put your damn shorts on so I can climb back in,” Bucky told him. Steve cooperated, holding out his arms for Bucky to come back once he was decent again. Bucky made sure to pull his own pants back on before sliding into Steve’s arms.

“Bucky,” Steve sighed, curling up against him, his head pillowed on his best friend’s chest. Steve’s arms were wrapped tightly around him. _Mine._

“Steve,” Bucky whispered, dropping a kiss on his forehead. _I love you._

And though the words hung unspoken between them, somehow they still knew.

 


End file.
